


A Belief in Vision

by nikatsu



Series: A Belief in Vision [1]
Category: SHINee, f(SHINee), f(x)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikatsu/pseuds/nikatsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taemin only believes in the things he can see. But an accident proves to change his ideals in its aftermath. (for Naomi [onceuponataem at LJ/Asianfanfics])</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Taemin only believes in the things he can see.

 

He believes in the Earth’s axis because the sun comes up in the morning and down before nightfall. He believes in recycling because pollution is apparent in the black smog that fills the top of his head as he walks the street. He believes in Math because numbers always add up and the solution never changes. He believes in the Korean language because reciting English verses in class is harder than reciting old poems and stories. He believes in a balanced diet because the meat special is not at all special and scary at best, and that it’s safer to go with the soup because it looks good, has discernibly cut vegetables and smells a hell lot better too.

 

“You have a little bit of mustard on your lips, Soojung.” He points out, swiping a thumb past the corner of her lips. He grins because he sees her grin and tucks her head in, leaning close just so to bump his shoulder.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Taemin believes that the twinkle in Soojung’s eyes when she mouths ‘I love you’ a beat later is because she loves him. And he believes he loves her back because he _thinks_ his eyes twinkle just the same.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They don’t.

 

And he only realizes this when they are driving home one night, fighting and cursing at each other in the comfort of his car.

 

There’s a troublesome storm out, pelting his windows with huge raindrops but neither of them care as they scream obscenities at each other’s expense. Soojung hates that he puts his academics before her, that he forgets dates and special occasions and her birthday. Taemin hates that she only cares for the most frivolous of things—like art class and book club and makeovers. He hates that she nags (screams) and she hates that he forgets (neglects) and really, why were they still together though?

 

Taemin is so angry he doesn’t notice the red light going off or the cloaked figure that begins to step out to cross the street. The rain pelts a thick veil over his window and he only manages to swerve an inch from the passerby before skidding, toppling over and rolling along the abandoned street and then crashing finally against a tree.

 

He comes to moments later, squints and sees immeasurable shapes. Noises are distant, blurred as blood rushes to his ears, flooding his head with too much at a time. Bright, fuzzy lights of red and blue flashing before him when blinks and tries to make sense of what had happened, where he was and why it’d come to this.

 

He faintly thinks to check on Soojung beside him, reaching for her in the blur of his vision.

 

She’s not there for some reason but when he lets his hand fall his fingers catch the length of her hair, strangely dry despite it always being smooth and silky. The rain continues to pelt outside, splashing in on the side of his face and on his hand as he tries to grip (pull) her hair.

 

She’s not reacting. She’s too quiet.

 

“Soojung?” he gasps out but she doesn’t answer. All he hears is the rush of voices clambering towards them. All he feels is a weight being lifted off of him.

 

His fingers stay clutched within her tresses as he fades out to darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taemin is immobile and strapped to a bed when he comes to—wheezing for air as though he had not breathed in years. The room is stark white and bright, the sun shining through the open window beside him but he doesn’t know this because all he sees is blurred shapes and light.

 

Someone comes in— _a doctor, probably_ , he thinks—to check on him, stopping by his side with a voice meant to soothe and telling him that he is glad to see he’s finally awake.

 

 _You suffered from a minor internal bleeding caused by the trauma exerted from the crash. The car flipped over so suddenly but a mass managed to cover your head and helped lessen the surprise impact of the airbag. You hit your head pretty bad still because of the force was harder than we hoped—and you might have opened your eyes just in time with your windshield breaking inwards. Some shards got into your eyes though they weren’t sharp enough to penetrate the cornea. The hospital’s Head of Opthamology managed to get them all out without complications right after you were brought in, but we will have to replace it the damaged cornea very soon. We’ve already looked into the donors’ list to see if there’s a pair that match you. It’s okay though since it’s the least susceptible to Graft’s disease._ ( **pause** ) _Anyway, you won’t be able to see for awhile but you survived and that’s all that matters._

 

Taemin only blinks, not listening. He doesn’t really even hear him.

 

“Soojung?” he asks faintly, his voice hoarse, dry. _Like her hair,_ he muses stupidly and blanches.

 

The doctor purses his lips and looks down.

 

And Taemin just knows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

His parents are rightfully worried, screaming and crying at hospital staff Taemin has yet to see or meet. He hears them demand the best care for him; his mother wailing at the fact that one of his legs is in a hard cast while his father swears about how he’ll have to miss his last exam (one he doesn’t even need to take).

 

His best friend Kai, however, reacts unusually.

 

“I told you not to leave the party angry.”

 

Taemin shrugs in response, not really knowing what to say. Kai doesn’t seem to like that very much because then he bristles and curses under his breath.

 

“I’m going to talk to Soojung’s older sister. She’s beside herself and their parents won’t be here till the day after.” He pauses, waiting for something Taemin doesn’t know what, “Did you want me to tell her something?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Anything.”

 

Taemin shakes his head. He has nothing to say. He doesn’t even think he deserves to say anything at all.

 

Not even ‘I’m sorry’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her parents don’t blame him but his sister, Sooyeon, does.

 

“You’re a jerk. How could you just sit there and not—You dated her for years! _She loved you_!”

 

Taemin only stares ahead until she leaves sobbing.

 

He hears but doesn’t see and so he doesn’t believe the meaning of her words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A warm hand wraps around his arm as he stares, blindly, out at the window.

 

His parents are gone for the day, his friends dwindling off just hours before and he is alone in his thoughts. The touch jolts him awake, though he is sure he hasn’t slept in days. He only stares out, not really speaking, waiting for something but not knowing what for.

 

“My name is Choi Jinri.” The owner of the hand says, her voice soft and melodious and special. He thinks it’s pretty, her name. He believes it matches the beauty in her voice.

 

“I’ll be your nurse,” she says, “We’ll be good friends, Mr. Lee.”

 

He doubts this very much—as pretty as her voice is, he doesn’t believe in making friends with medical personnel at all.

 

But he nods anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Day 3:**

_“I heard that you go to Seoul University for your second degree. I finished my Nursing degree at a community college in the province. I was just really lucky to get this job in Seoul. What are you taking in SU?”_

 

**Day 6:**

_“I really like strawberries. There was a magazine I read once about it being the dirtiest fruit—like literally—but I don’t really care. It’s sweet and sour and just so good. What’s your favorite fruit?”_

****

**Day 10:**

_“My favorite book right now is Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. I don’t know why, I guess I like the idea of a tournament. That and Emma Watson is pretty. What do you like to read?”_

 

**Day 12:**

_“Don’t you think the apple is a little weird? Sometimes its round, sometimes triangular... there’s a green variety, a red one and then another that’s a mix of the two. There’s a sweet one and sour one and I don’t know—I was just thinking, you know? What do you think is weird?”_

 

**Day 15:**

_“I hated math when I was in school but your mom says you really like it. Is that why you’re taking up robotics? Because of the math, and you know, robots?”_

 

**Day 19:**

_“We’re going take you off of some of your meds tomorrow. Are you ready for Physical Therapy? Don’t worry, it’s just basically exercise—unless you know you hate that sort of thing?”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nurse Choi is nice enough but Taemin thinks she talks too much and asks too many questions.

 

He tells his best friend, Kai, so but all he gets as a reply is a question thrown back at him.

 

“Why don’t you tell her to shut up then?” Kai asks and Taemin imagines him rolling his eyes as he fidgets with his smartphone.

 

“I told you... she’s nice. She doesn’t talk to me like I’m four. It might hurt her feelings if I tell her to piss off.” He replies, shrugging though inside he’s unconvinced of his own answer. He hears his best friend scoff and he struggles to keep from kicking his still-tapered leg at him. “Plus I like her voice. I don’t mind her talking, really. I just wish she’d ease up a little.”

 

They fall silent for a moment and when Kai finally responds it turns out to be a little terser than either of them expected.

 

“You’ve never had a problem telling Soojung to shut up though.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_“I can’t believe you! How could you forget my birthday? I’d told you about this dinner a thousand times! You know my sister’s coming over to meet you—she knows all about you and I’ve been dying to introduce you to her since forever!”_

_“Geez, Soojung, there’s always next tim—”_

_“And when will that be, huh? Unni’s been working in Paris since I was in middle school and it’s almost impossible for her to come back to visit because of the airfare. The one night she’s here and you fucking forget! Why do you do that? I never forget any of your events even though they bore me to death—”_

_“Then don’t fucking go! I don’t need you for those anyway.”_

_“How could you say that—I—you— ”_ (tears are shoved away; pause, **reload** ) _“And another thing, because I know you hate parties—fucking rich now since you were at one when I called you—I decided not to throw one so you could be comfortable. Why can’t you do this one little thing for me? I love my sister and I love you so much and all I want is—”_

_“Shut up, Soojung. Just **shut up**.”_

_“I will not you arrogant son of a—Look out!”_

Their fight replays in his head that night. He sees the blinding light and Soojung’s eyes widening in horror as she lunges onto him. He hears the horrible sounds of glass cracking in and metal breaking. Soojung screams all throughout—

  
And then silence.

 

Taemin wakes up in darkness and his heart in his throat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He is in Rehab when Nurse Choi comes to check up on him again. Taemin hears her greet his therapist happily, chatting for a minute before excusing him for a walk.

 

A walk isn’t needed but she says it doesn’t mean it won’t help. And though he would never admit it, he actually kind of think it does.

 

Not that he doesn’t walk enough in therapy. It’s just that he prefers to hear her talk outside of the stuffy hospital, where the air is cool and the sun hits his face in just the right way. Nurse Choi guides him as they walk, holding his arm gently with her soft, warm hands. He has to use a walking stick for a bit longer but he finds he doesn’t mind as much anymore.

 

“How long have you been working for this hospital?”

 

“Turning a year officially next month. I’m only twenty-two.”

 

“So you’re my age.”

 

“Yep.” She laughs. “You’re my first patient. Scared yet?”

 

He mock-shudders. “Oh, lucky me.”

 

“You were assigned to someone else before. One of the senior nurses but your doctor thought it’d be best if someone younger handled you instead. I’m a chatterbox and while I’m very new in the hospital, I’ve got excellent recommendations from my internship advisors. Doctor Shim said that since we’re the same age, I’d be able to help you psychologically too...”

 

They stop for a moment as she pauses, patting his arm. He imagines her biting her lip while thinking of what else to say.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says finally, “it’s a terrible loss. You must be devastated even though you don’t show it.”

 

“Because she died and I lived?” Taemin asks humorlessly.

 

Nurse Choi doesn’t respond to that and they carry on their walk in silence.

 

When Taemin gets back for his second round of rehab, he retracts his previous thought about walking helping his injuries.

 

It doesn’t. It only magnifies the ache in his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s not like they’re _really_ friends in the first place.

 

She is his nurse, and he is her patient. The boundaries are set and he believes they should be followed.

 

“Sorry about earlier, Mr. Lee.”

 

“Please, it’s Taemin... and it’s okay. You really **do** talk _too_ much.”

 

Taemin thinks she makes it hard though, as he hears her laugh and squeeze his hand. It was be nice to have a friend who didn’t hate him for what happened.

 

“Shut up,” she scolds him playfully, “and it’s Jinri.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

His doctor tells him they’ve found him a pair of corneas that match his type perfectly. The surgery will be quick and easy and he’ll be able to see in no time at all.

 

Taemin thinks he should be elated but all he feels is dread.

 

He isn’t sure he wants to see. He isn’t sure if he wants to see how his parents look, or Kai, or Soojung’s parents.

 

(But he does want to see Jinri, and he doesn’t know why.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you remember anything from the accident?”

 

They’re out on a walk again, though this time they’re just sitting on a bench. Jinri sounds weary, tired from her work schedule but still chatty all the same. Taemin finds comfort in that somehow.

 

He answers truthfully. “Bits and pieces.”

 

“Like what?” she ask, wounding her arm with his.

 

“Rain, mostly. The light and all the sounds of my car crashing. Someone crossing the street...” He pauses, unsure of how to proceed, “I remember her screaming ‘Look out’ and lunging towards me. She always had her seatbelt on but I dunno why she wasn’t wearing it that night.”

 

“She was protecting you.”

 

“She hated me as much as she said she loved me. I don’t believe she meant to protect me at all.”

 

“But she did.” She argues her tone soft and comforting. He felt her fingers lightly touch his and he thinks he feels much better this way than all of the therapy sessions help his health. “What was her name?”

 

“ _Soojung._ Jung Soojung.”

 

“Pretty name.” Their fingers link, and for the life of him, they don’t pull away. “Do you miss her?”

 

Taemin hadn’t thought of that yet but he answers because Nurse Choi deserves one (no matter how uncertain it is),

 

“I guess so.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

They hold hands more, while they walk.

 

Taemin doesn’t know if he can believe he could feel so good with someone without seeing them but he’s beginning to see the beauty in trusting the unseen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kai drops by a day before the surgery.

 

“I was angry,” he says, sitting on the foot of his bed instead of the chair beside it, “You know how I felt about Soojung before. I was happy for both of you, of course, but I was never really able to shake her off my mind.”

 

“I know,” Taemin knows and he understands, “I’m sorry it had to end like this.”

 

“Yeah,” he replies, sad and dejected, “me too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jinri stays with him when the day of the surgery comes because his parents won’t be able to. She says it nonchalantly but he can tell she’s a little disturbed. He’s used to it, but she isn’t—she’d told him enough about her family to know they were always (always) there for each other.

 

“I’m excited to finally see your eyes. I bet they’re pretty.”

 

Taemin laughs (an actual laugh), “Are you flirting with me?”

 

“What?! No!” She sputters and he likes to imagine her blushing hard as he laughs some more, “Oh shut up. It’s not like you haven’t been flirting with me either.”

 

“What—me?! I have not.”

 

“Pssh, so are all the fingers linking when we walk just mine?”

 

It’s his turn to sputter, grateful that he can’t see her reaction just yet.

 

“Fine, maybe I am—and maybe I like walking that way. Got a problem with that?”

 

She’s quiet for a moment and he hears her move towards him. Her fingers touch his and the quiet warm feeling fills him.

 

“I like it too. I don’t have a problem with it at all.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

He lives to see another day. _Quite literally._

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Glad to see the whole of your face.” Jinri greets him, tone sweet and happy and he knows it her even without turning. “Seeing right?”

 

Taemin nods, waving her in as he shoved things into his bag. He’s standing on his own two feet finally, sans the walking stick—loving the stark white color of his room he’d not seen at all in weeks. “Yeah, I’m seeing fine.”

 

“Well,” she starts, stopping beside him. Her hands are at her sides, palms open upward as she gestures over herself. “What do you think?”

  
“About what?” He deadpans, grinning. She wrinkles her nose at him.

 

“How do I look?” Jinri asks him, blushing as soon as the words come out of her mouth and he turns to look ( _really look_ ) at her for the first time.

 

His eyes linger at her face for a whole minute after an onceover, his smile widening as she holds her breath. “Beautiful,” he says and he means it because he believes it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Ready to go?” Taemin asks her minutes later after he’s done packing, extending his hand in her direction which she takes with no hesitation.

 

“Just let me grab my coat,” she says, pulling him out with a flourish—pulling on a light grey coat hanging over the nurse’s station.

 

He stops short at the sight of the jacket, the material catching light and blinding him for a moment. He hears Soojung’s screams and feels the weight pound on his head. He heaves but doesn’t let his distress show. He can’t, he won’t. _Shit._

 

Jinri doesn’t notice anything wrong but he does.

 

Taemin recognizes the coat because it is the same he’d seen that day Soojung died.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He believes... but, some doubt remains. Taemin still isn't sure what to make of seeing Soojung wherever he goes.

Taemin still only believes in the things he sees.

 

He believes in the solutions of equations in front him as he scribbles them out on a blank sheet because he found his way there, through the sea of numbers, unscathed. He believes in the result of experiments he constructs and its functions and use because the robot works on the third try after he’d changed a few things and tinkered with the engine. He believes that his prototype works because the panel at NASA says so and approved his internship. He believes he will get to where he wants to be because his life is already laid out in front him, on several sheets of paper and Jinri is so happy for him she promises to go with him wherever he wants them to go. He believes Jinri because she is there, in front of him—smiling that beautiful smile and loving him for who he is, has become and will be.

 

He believes… but, some doubt remains.

 

Taemin still isn’t sure what to make of seeing Soojung wherever he goes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ _Don’t you think you’re a little too young to hotwire yourself to caffeine so early in the morning?”_

The first day back from the hospital, Taemin wakes up to see Soojung perched on his desk—her legs crossed at the heels as she fiddled with her hands on her lap. He yelps and bumps his head on an overhead cabinet, knocking his papers off the shelf to rain down on him and his bed.

 

She laughs that lilting laugh he remembers laughing so much and he reels as she edges just a bit closer. He moves but can’t find the words to speak. His mouth opens but nothing comes out and when she moves—her touch is icy on his cheek. Cold but _soft_ , like always.

 

She speaks ( _“You’re going to need some ice for that bump of yours, kiddo. There’s some in the fridge.”_ ); and then blurs out of sight. Disappears.

Taemin believes ( _knows_ ) he’s gone insane when he looks and sees a bag of ice he’s so sure was _not_ there before.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ** _But_** —he doesn’t tell anyone about seeing Soojung’s spirit. Taemin thinks she’s haunting him so it’s his problem to solve. There was no need to bring other people in the mix. Not Jinri—who always smiles and laughs even when all he sees is her grey jacket and Soojung walking in time with her. Not Kai—who loves (loved) Soojung more than he ever did and hasn’t moved on at all.

 

He groans, burying his head under a pillow. No, he can’t tell anyone. _That’s that._

 

 

 

 

 

Soojung is perched on his desk everyday for a week after that first day, eyeing him from where he slept and following him throughout the day.

 

Her presence annoyed him; scared him shitless. It made him uncomfortable to move around and live through day to day. She was there in his classes, whispering answers to his tests that he’s sure she wouldn’t have known if she were alive. She was there when hung out with his friends, laughing at jokes Minho throws around and hovering closer to Kai than him. She was there during his dates with Jinri, walking alongside her and commenting on how pretty her hair looks and her dress and _Oh her shoes are darling, wonder where she bought those?_

Her presence annoyed him but he refused to say a word. Not to Jinri. Not to Kai. Not to anyone who mattered or less.

 

Soojung huffs a lot when he passes by ( _through_ ) her and his skin prickles at the cold. He keeps his eyes downcast when she appears in front of him—wearing her favorite teal skirt and spotless white blouse, lips dusty pink and skin flawless (almost luminescent) in the light.

 

_“You’re going to have to fess up sooner or later. You can’t keep ignoring the fact that you can see me, Taemin. I’m not leaving anytime soon.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Taemin…”

 

Jinri’s hands are always warm when she touches him, always soft when she lays them on his cheek. It’s times like these where they are truly alone—free from the horror of his accident and his visions of Soojung—that he feels peaceful. _Safe._ Taemin wishes he could stay in the comfort of her touch forever.

 

She’s worried when she asks, brushing his hair off his forehead. “Taemin, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” he replies, eyes closed and breathing the oxygen in deep into his lungs. His legs are propped up on the armrest of her small couch as they stay-in for the day. Her dorm room enveloped in scents that are distinctly Jinri’s and he is thankful for the promise of lavender and chamomile wafting through the air.

 

(He’s gotten sick of the jasmine in his room. _Soojung’s scent._ )

 

“Really?” she confirms, her tone soft but resolute. Strong.

 

He opens his eyes and blinks at the uncertainty in her eyes. He doesn’t want her to worry because there is nothing, _absolutely nothing._

 

And when he nods one last time, she accepts it and goes back to brushing his hair. Taemin tries not to run away when the scent of jasmine hits his nose seconds later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Have you been having trouble seeing since the operation?”

 

Taemin sits timidly in his chair on his hospital appointment, fixing his sights on the desk instead of his doctor’s face. A metal bar lies on the surface, his doctor’s name— _Dr. Changmin Shim, Opthalmology and Eye Surgery_ —stamped across it in block letters. His name is responsible-sounding, almost powerful and Taemin briefly thinks that it suits him very well.

 

They are a lot alike, Taemin muses. Both of them were believers in Science; in what was freely visible and palatable to the senses. Dr. Shim wouldn’t believe he were seeing ghosts if he were him. He would have chucked it up to being heavily medicated and being at the brink of exhaustion. Which he was, he tells himself so adamantly, _I’m just tired from all of this and school and medication._

 

“Mr. Lee?” He looks up and watches his doctor watch him and quirks an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

 

The good doctor smiles, his eyes slanting one way and asks again, “Have you had some trouble seeing since the operation?”

 

“No.” And he says it because it’s the truth. Only he leaves out the fact that he sees more than what was normal (Soojung); that he believes more than what is common and right in the world. The doctor, he thinks, doesn’t need to know his thoughts. _That’s not what he’s paid to cure._

 

“Are you sure? Because Nurse Choi has mentioned you’ve been constantly rubbing your eyes since you got out of the hospital and to an ophthalmologist like me that is a worrying habit.”

 

Taemin shrugs, “There’s nothing wrong, I promise.”

 

And then he blinks and Soojung is there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 _Why are you here?_ He thinks and she answers.

 

“ _Because you haven’t accepted it yet._ ”

 

_Accept what?_

 

Soojung shrugs as she walks (floats) towards him, laying a surprisingly warm hand on his cheek. Taemin blinks, his form stiffening for a moment before relaxing because her touch had always calmed him, no matter how little he put her in his heart.

 

She replies rather ambiguously, “ _You have to let it go, Taemin.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

He meets Kai 6 and a half weeks after his hospital discharge and wonders why neither of them had sought each other out earlier. His friend has his feet up over his desk when Taemin arrives for the class they share. They look from either ends of the classroom, acknowledging each other before Kai tips his head towards the seat next to him. Taemin relents, walks over and sits.

 

Neither says anything until it’s become too long a pause and their classmates dutifully file in to fill the room.

 

Kai breaks the silence first, pulling his feet down to sit up straighter in his seat. His notebook is open before Taemin even realized its presence and starts doodling shapes at the paper’s edge. “How’ve you been?” he asks, softer than usual and Taemin wonders if his friend is asking him about his condition or if the question was just asked out of courtesy.

 

He studies him for a moment before deciding the reason is the latter. “I’m fine. You?”

 

“I could be better.” Kai replies, shrugging. “Jinri?”

 

Taemin can’t help the smile that turn his lips up and wide. “She and I are good.”

 

“I always knew your kink would be ‘Hot Nurses’, dude.”

 

Kai smirks a little when he speaks and in that moment, Taemin think he might not have lost his best friend yet at all. He laughs, the first genuine one in forever it seems, and punches his friend on the shoulder.

 

“Fuck off, _Jongin_.”

 

Kai nods, unusually unperturbed by the use of his real name and continues doodling absentmindedly. It takes both of them a full minute before they realize that the shapes were actually letters and the letter spelled—

 

“ _Krystal_.”

 

Taemin’s breath catches and his ears begin to ring. Kai tears the paper haphazardly, crumpling it into a ball in his fist. He shrugs just as he looks over at him, eyes guarded as though he didn’t trust him—Taemin, his supposed _best friend_ —to understand why he’d written what he wrote.

 

 _He probably shouldn’t_ , Taemin thinks, easing himself into even breaths. He breaks gazes and tips his head back, drawing oxygen into his lungs—long and deep, _calm_. He closes his eyes and tries his hardest not to flinch when he opens them again only to see her floating in front of him (them). _I don’t even trust myself to understand what it is I keep seeing._

 

But Kai surprises him by dispelling the tension, speaking in a tone that was reminiscent of the _before_ and not the after of everything ( _Soojung, death and the unrequited love_ ) in between them. “She said she hated her English name, but I always thought she secretly loved it too.” He smooths out the crumpled paper over his desk, smiling slightly and Taemin swears he sees Soojung look at Kai affectionately instead at him.

 

“I would call her ‘Krystal’ just to piss her off, though it never stopped her from looking my way when I do.”

 

Taemin breathes— _in relief_ , he thinks but he doesn’t know _why_ —and shrugs, “You were the only one allowed to call her that. She pummeled anyone else who even tried.”

 

Soojung shrugs at the statement and in that moment something clicks in his head.

 

Then he says it before thinking it through—“She secretly loved you, I think.”—and Kai’s easy smile slips right off.

 

“You’re an asshole, Taemin,” Kai hisses, leaving abruptly just as their professor starts roll-call.

 

Taemin sinks into his seat and Soojung sighs beside him.

 

“ _You’re not supposed to antagonize your friends, Taemin._ ”She looks sad as she says this. “ _Especially not Jongin._ ”

 

“Then why do you appear?” _What do you want from me?_

 

He asks a beat too late because Soojung fades away and he finds himself alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jinri is worried but doesn’t want him to notice. Except he does because when she leans in to kiss him ‘hello’ there is something heavy (anxious) in her taste that unsettles him.

 

 “How was work?” He brushes her cheek as he pulled away, his eyes search for something—anything—in her eyes but Jinri is good at keeping things to herself. _Too good_ , his conscience muses and his mind flashes to the thought of her all-too familiar coat resting at one end of his couch and to the crash he painstakingly refuses to go back and remember.

 

“I got spit on by a 3-month old baby then that patient in Room 1012? The one who wanted her breasts reduced? She snuck her Chihuahua during Visiting Hours and I had to run around chasing it when it started racing down the ward.” Jinri tells him, feigning a yawn to snuggle up to him on the miniscule couch in his tiny apartment. She stretches her limbs over the arm rest, patting her hair down as she laid her head on his lap. Taemin’s fingers immediately find purchase in her locks and it eases her better than anything in the world.

 

She likes this quiet. She likes him too, so much, and if the air was clearer she would have told him so sooner but she doesn’t because it’s not. Not so clear at all.

 

“Are you trying to put my lap to sleep?” His voice takes her out of her reverie and she’s grateful for the little distraction. Blinking up to him, Jinri merely shrugs in response, splaying her hands on her stomach as their quiet atmosphere enveloped them again.

 

This is one of the things he values most about their relationship. The quiet is never stifling or awkward. It is calm and easy and beautiful—loving if anything because it is what they feel for one another, Taemin’s sure of it. He loves Jinri. He loves her eyes, her smile, her quirks and her passion. He loves that she knows what she wants in life and that her plans include him because his most definitely included her. He loves her so much it kills him that at the same time he cannot bring himself to trust her at all.

 

Not enough to tell her at least, of what he (thought he) knew or what he’s been seeing (hallucinating) for the past month.

 

There is never a good time to tell the person you love you’re still seeing your ex. Not especially when said ex is dead, _dead, **dead**._

 

A few more minutes of this and vaguely Taemin wishes they’d agreed to meet elsewhere. To be surrounded by his things still mixed with some of Soojung’s and have the person he knows (thinks) he’s in love with makes his airways constrict. The air (or lack thereof) is stifling and it kills him bit by bit because there are things left unsaid and he can’t seem to absolve them both to peace at all.

 

And then there was Soojung’s constant appearance. Beautiful, _happy_ , dead Soojung floating beside him on the free armrest. Staring at him with her sparkling eyes and smiling…

 

He tries not to choke as Jinri rises to bury her face against his neck, his arms encircling her waist immediately. He holds on because he has no one else to go to. Not his parents, not Kai— _no one._

 

Soojung’s tone is unfailingly kind. “ _She’s so pretty. I’m glad you chose a pretty one after me. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t._ ” She grins at them as she moves to stand up and turn away, fingers ghosting against the material of Jinri’s _fucking_ light grey jacket on the armrest.

 

_“Tell her, would you? Tell her and be honest.”_

He blinks and thinks, _about what?_ , and somehow Soojung hears it.

 

_“About what you know and how you feel. Tell her about the dreams, the hallucinations… tell her about me. Tell anyone, even. Anyone who’ll listen.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “I hate your jacket.”

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

He fingers the sleeve of the coat and feels a wave of disgust awash him. He throws it across the room without a second thought.

 

“Taemin! What do you have against that coat?”

 

“Nothing—just that I hate it. I’ll buy you a new one.”

 

“Absolutely not.” She replies, frowning as she searched his face. His face is blank and he wishes he didn’t believe it was hurt in her eyes that he so clearly sees. “Come on, tell me what’s really wrong.”

 

_Tell her about me. Tell anyone._

 

“Nothing’s wrong.” _Liar_ , Soojung whispers. “Nothing.”

 

“You’ve been acting so strange since you got out of the hospital.” Jinri tells him, tone soft and worried and _so loving_ it pierces his heart. “What’s the matter? Have you been feeling sick and not telling me?”

 

Taemin shakes his head (and the words intensify, _Tell her about me. Tell anyone._ ).

 

“Is it about the accident? Did you remember anything more about it?”

 

Soojung smiles and hovers over his head.

 

“It’s nothing. I just—I hate—” His head feels heavier now that he sees all of himself reflected to him in Jinri’s eyes. All of the hurt, the pain, the **guilt** —“I’m just tired, I think.”

 

“Taemin…”

 

“Jinri, stop it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Have there been any problems since our last meeting?”

 

The doctor is more tired than usual today. Taemin can tell by the darker than usual circles under his eyes expertly hidden underneath his glasses. He thinks he’s allowed to know when his doctor’s tired or not after weeks of therapy and appointments. They were more than acquaintances now, but less than friends. That had to account of something.

 

He doesn’t mean to be flippant but when he speaks, he winces at the sound of it being exactly so. “Nothing I can recall since you asked last week.”

 

 “I’m surprised you managed to string 9 words together to say to me.” Dr. Shim’s eyebrow shoots up and studies him with a wry look. “You must really be feeling better, huh? Or worse if you’re just making up for whatever’s lost in you?”

 

“I thought psychiatrists were the nosy ones in the Doctoral chain, Dr. Shim?”

 

“We’re all pretty up close and personal when it comes to our patients, I think, in some sense. And please, call me Changmin.”

 

Taemin shrugs, relenting under the hard gaze his doctor threw his way. He sighs only because what else was there to say?

 

_Tell anyone. Anyone who’ll listen._

“You look like someone who wants to say something but won’t.” Changmin says, leaning forward onto his desk with a concentrated look of determination etched on his face. He has his hands folded together in front of him—a quintessential physician habit, Taemin deliberates in amusement, that didn’t miss the young doctor at all. Changmin unfolds them to wave around his empty office. “Care to share with the class?”

 

_Tell anyone. Anyone who’ll listen._

 

“Mr. Lee?”

 

_Tell anyone. Anyone who’ll listen._

 

Taemin sways a bit, nausea slowly overwhelming his senses. He tries to freeze himself into position, upright on his seat but— _Tell anyone. Anyone who’ll listen._

 

“Taemin? Taemin, are you—“ Pause, **crash**. “Jinri, get an saline IV, air mask and 0.001cc of adrenaline STAT! He’s hyperventilating!”

 

_Tell anyone. Anyone who’ll listen._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 He wakes up to see stark white walls and Jinri’s hand wrapped tight around his. Soojung sits at the end of his hospital bed, smiling sadly and waiting.

 

 _“Tell her about me. Tell anyone.”_ She repeats; a mantra of sorts and when she disappears, Jinri wakes.

 

The moment her eyes looks into his, the glass breaks.

 

He knows what to believe in but wishes he didn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

His voice is hoarse ( _tired, dejected, resigned_ ) when he finally asks,

 

“Were you on duty when I was delivered in from the accident?”

 

Jinri’s brow furrows in confusion but she responds regardless. “I was. I’d just logged in when you were wheeled in…”

 

“So you might have seen my car?”

 

“It was raining so hard that night that it was almost impossible to see the roads clearly. I could barely cross the street without—” She stops, eyes widening in slow realization.

 

“Almost getting hit by a car? _Yeah_ , I know the feeling,” Taemin deadpans, extracting his hand out from under hers almost too roughly that she gasps in surprise. The sound hurts him but admitting _this_ hurt even more. “I remember someone wearing a light grey coat before the crash happened,” he continues, swallowing as his monitored vitals beeped beside him. Taunting him, almost, by the sound of them— _beep, beep, be-beep_. “Some idiot decided to cross the street without looking both ways at a non-pedestrian walking zone while I swerved out of the way and crashed into a tree.”

 

There are tears in her voice when Jinri speaks, “Taemin… I couldn’t have—”

 

“Does it matter?” He says angrily, feeling the tears prick his eyes, “Soojung is dead— _my girlfriend is dead_. I know what I saw and I know it was your jacket and I—I only believe in what I see.I wish I didn’t… but I do. We killed her. _We did._ And I had the nerve to fall for you after.”

 

“Taemin,” she’s crying now, “It was an accident. It couldn’t have been me. I didn’t hear about the crash until you were wheeled in! If it were me, shouldn’t I have witnessed it? I would have gone over to help immediately if I was there! But I wasn’t! You have to believe me! Please… please…”

 

“You said yourself: it was raining too hard that night. You couldn’t have seen it if you were in a hurry. It doesn’t matter—she’s _gone_ and she’s haunting me. I can’t do this.” He presses the hospital emergency button on his remote and looks away as nurses rush in and take the scene of them (Jinri crying, him lying prone) in. “Get her out of here, please. I can’t look at her.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I heard… about what you said to Nurse Choi.”

 

Changmin visits him practically seconds after Jinri is pulled away and just as he moves to sign papers for his discharge. He is leaning back against the doorframe of his hospital room, his hands are deep within his pockets; his eyes lowered as though he was anxious to come inside and speak to him. Why his doctor would be so worried, Taemin had no clue, but he waited nonetheless, dropping the pen on the table to raise an eyebrow at his visitor.

 

“Can I help you?” He asks and Changmin finally moves from his place.

 

“You got it wrong, you know. She wasn’t involved like you said.”

 

Taemin pauses at this. “How would you know?”

 

“Because I saw what happened,” Changmin admits, swallowing something (his pride) in his throat. He steps towards the windowed walls overlooking the nurse’s station and points.

 

Taemin looks and he sees a slender woman in a white coat taking notes into a folder. She is a beautiful woman and when she looks up (all bright-eyed and doe-like) he sees why he would think so. With her hair pulled back in a low-sloped ponytail, pink lips and flawless skin—he briefly thinks of Jinri and aches. Then he looks back at his visitor and wonders aloud, “What about her?”

 

“A month ago, she and I were breaking up a block away from the road you were driving along. Actually, ‘breaking up’ isn’t the correct term. More like I was leaving her… casting her aside; _something like that_. I’d left her crying under a gazebo in a park near the hospital and she ran after me. She would have caught up with me too… if she didn’t hear the crash.” Changmin looks at him, resigned, “She was wearing a light grey jacket that night and didn’t look both ways before crossing.”

 

He breathes in deep, taking in the information. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t think it’s fair to ostracize yourself from the woman you love. Believe it or not, I do keep myself updated with my nurses’ lovelives… if only to amuse them and myself from time to time. It keeps me on their good side when they know they can speak to me.” He smiles in a self-deprecating way and Taemin almost feels inclined to smile back. He thinks of how Jinri likes to talk and his heart drops from under him. _Damn._

 

“And your point is?”

 

“If you’re going to blame someone, you should blame _me_. Or Yoona,” he gestures to the window, face breaking into brief sadness before sighing, “Or both, if you want. If I hadn’t left her in such a state, she wouldn’t have run after me and you wouldn’t have swerved into a tree. It’s not fair for you to hurt Nurse Choi for something she didn’t have a part of. All she’s ever done was care for you.”

 

Taemin nods, “And love me… apparently.”

 

“You say that as though it’s a bad thing.”

 

“Isn’t it?” He retorts though his tone is anything but mean. “Why did you break up with her?”

 

Changmin shrugs, “She isn’t mine to begin with.”

 

Taemin’s almost afraid to ask but he does anyway. “But you loved her?”

 

“Love,” The doctor corrects him then shrugs, “but it’s not going to work out.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I don’t know how to love her right,” he replies, heaving a breath too deep for his lungs, “But my friend does—her boyfriend does. He’s a Medical Director for a hospital in Japan and he asked her to come with him after ignoring her for months to arrange his transfer.” Changmin laughs but all it sounds like is cheerless. “We weren’t supposed to become more but Yoona, she… she wanted _more_.”

 

Something about his words ring true to his ears. “And you didn’t.”

 

“I do.” He says, sighing once more, “But it’s not enough, and soon she’ll be living in Japan and I’ll be here.”

 

“Why don’t you follow after her then?”

 

Changmin throws the question back to me with a cynical smile. “Why don’t you?”

 

“Jinri deserves better than me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because…” _I don’t know how to love her (anyone) right._ Taemin sighs, his lips quirking upward into a smile that matched his visitor. “I see your point.”

The doctor nods, understanding the silence and Taemin once again thinks they are too much alike.

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jinri’s cries echoes aloud in the room hours after she is wedged away and his nurses tell him it’s ok to leave. His heart is not in his chest when he leaves. It is with her— _Jinri_ —because even though he believes what he saw, he loves her still— _truly_ —and what Taemin is left with is nothing but the image of Soojung shaking her head. Changmin’s words ring in his ear as she floats beside him and he waits for her to finally speak.

 

As usual, her tone is kind,

 

_“That wasn’t what I meant when I said you should tell her.”_

“Then what?” he asks her aloud, acknowledging her presence (the first time and probably only). Angry at first before deflating—how could he argue with a ghost? A figment of his imagination?

 

“ _You were wrong to accuse her. She had no part of this._ **We** _were to blame._ ” Soojung pauses and sighs, brushing his hair past his forehead.

 

The next she opens her mouth, the words are sad but _loving_ , choked with emotion, “ _… and even though you say otherwise, you haven’t accepted the fact that I died. That you loved me the same way I did in your own way but was never able to tell me. Because you didn’t believe in love then, at least until she came along. You fell for her because she made you believe in things I could never make you consider when I was alive.”_

_Soojung is beautiful_ , he thinks, _when she cries._ Even in death and it throttles him to feel so much for someone he can— _will_ —no longer see.

_“You have accept it and let me go, Taemin.”_

 

“I never wanted you dead.” _I’m sorry. I wish I was better for you then. I wish I loved you better._ “I never wanted to hurt you or Kai or Jinri… I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

 

 _“I know.”_ She tells him and leans to brush her lips against his. He watches her as she fades into light, smiling beautifully the way he remembers, “ _I know._ ”

 

_“Tell her about me. Tell anyone who’ll listen. Don’t forget.”_

Taemin blinks. “Okay.”

 

 

 

 

 

It’s awkward when they meet again, with Taemin’s hands are filled with a bouquet of cheerful posies and Jinri’s are clutched over patients’ records.

 

“I saw Soojung everywhere, after the accident,” he admits, shoving the posies under her nose. He is flushed and nervous as she stares back at him, waiting. “I was almost sure I was going nuts but I think I was only seeing her because a part of me still believed she was still… out there somewhere. Hiding from me. She likes to play hide’n’seek. That’s kind of her thing.”

 

“Soojung always teased me about my loving her in a certain way that wasn’t… normal. She would say that I would only really know her worth if she were to disappear. I always called her a drama queen whenever she said but when she finally did—disappear—I think my heart finally understood what she meant. And that killed a part of me that only believed in the physicality and not in… emotions.”

 

He takes tiny steps forward, watching for a reaction but when Jinri gives him none he soldiers on. _Results be damned._

“You were right… about me not accepting her death. I blamed you because of something I saw that I thought made sense. It wasn’t fair to you or to me because I was essentially forcing myself into a standstill in my life. I couldn’t accept that I had played a part in her death and that I could have loved her better before it all ended and I… I love you, the way I should have loved Soojung. And that scares me because I don’t know how a real love looks like to the world and all I’ve ever believed before was what I could see and calculate.”

 

“Love isn’t an equation.” She replies simply and Taemin can’t help but laugh at the cliché.

 

“Yeah, I know that now.”

 

Jinri nods and holds the flowers to her nose as he held his breath.

 

“My shift ends at six,” she tells him with _her smile_ and his soul lifts and he swears he can hear Soojung’s laugh ring in his ears. “Dinner and a movie?”

 

Taemin closes his eyes and breathes. He blinks. He sees. _He loves._

 

“I’ll see you then.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

(( “I lo’ed her, y’know. I did. I do. You st’le ‘r from me.”

 

Weeks later, Taemin thinks his helping Kai onto his couch is a clandestine meeting waiting to erupt. And when he manages to wedge Kai into a corner of the couch and Jinri tells him she’ll make his friend some tea, he thinks the eruption might as well happen sooner than later.

 

When was a better time to let your friend yell obscenities at you than right now and where else but at your couch nonetheless? At least, Taemin thinks, he’ll have Jinri to comfort him later. Kai has no one. _Soojung is dead_ and hovering still between them in smoke and unshed tears.

 

“Let it out, man.” He says in placating manner and knows it won’t help but he tries anyway. “I’m sorry she’s dead. I really am.”

 

“No, you’re n’t. You d’nt kn’w at all.” Kai slurs in anger even as tears stream down his face. Taemin feels sick at the sight because he’s never seen him this way. Not ever. Not even when his parents died and his own parents fostered him as an adopted son. Not when he (they? No, most definitely ‘ ** _he_** ’) lost Soojung.

 

“F’ckin ev’ryth’ng up. You h’d ‘r th’n you thr’w ‘r away just”—Kai snaps his fingers—“like”— **snap** —“th’t for some floozy nurse.”

 

“Hey,” Taemin glowers, lips set in a thin line. Jinri walks in with the tea in her hands, undisturbed by the comment even though he knew she must have heard it—“Don’t talk about Jinri that way. She helped me get better!”

 

“And who helped Soojung?!” Suddenly Kai’s blurring gaze clears and he yells so angrily the walls shake. They stand off at one another, scowling and hurt. And when Jinri tries to pull his arm back, he doesn’t let himself budge from his position.

 

Not because he won’t but because _he can’t_.

 

“You could have just fought it out at the party. Screamed and yelled and thrown things. I wouldn’t have minded because at least it was in my house!” Kai continues, pushing at him with every force of his being. Jinri shouts for him to stop but doesn’t move any closer when Taemin holds a hand up. He doesn’t want her to get involved, he doesn’t want her hurt. If Kai were to hurt anyone that night, it had to be _him_. He deserved it.

 

“I would have watched over both of you! The roads were flooded that night, you asshole! If you’d have listened to me Soojung would have been alive right now!”

 

Kai breaks down and all Taemin knows to do is hold him until he calms. It is the least he can do for the man who loved her better than he ever could.

 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers it and thinks it’s enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He and Kai make a proper memorial.

 

Neither of them was around when the Jung family had buried their daughter, but then both of them didn’t feel like they were allowed to join in their grief. Instead they moved to create their own—complete with sandwiches and drinks she liked and over a blanket she quilted when they were freshmen by her grave. The soil was just soft enough from the rain.

 

Jinri had declined to join them, saying that it was their moment and she wasn’t a part of them when Soojung was alive. “She deserves to have a day with her best friends. I just hope she likes the way I made her sandwiches for today.” She said, grinning while she packed the papered breads into a stack inside a basket.

 

“Soojung would have liked her,” Kai commented, breaking off a piece of his sandwich with a smile, “They would have been partners-in-crime.”

 

“Like us?” Taemin offered, tossing a can of root beer his way.

 

Brushing the granite of the tombstone above his head, Kai nodded as he moved to lay back on the grass.

 

“Yeah.” ))

 

 

 

 

 

**END**


End file.
